Home
by CreddieCupcake
Summary: Carly goes through a rough break-up, and just wants to go home to pick up the pieces. Creddie or Creddie friendship. Oneshot. Complete. Rated T because reasons.


"Carly, I swear it wasn't what it looked like!" The blonde boy was running to her side now.

"Oh, really? Because it _looked_ like you were cheating on me," she stopped walking and wheeled around to face him, "_with the cashier from Build-A-Bra._" The brunette was seething, her arms flailing about at her sides. She realized her hands were shaking and shoved them into her coat pockets. She wasn't shaking because of the weather. The snow around her was nothing compared to the frigid tone in which she was speaking.

"Baby…" He put his hands on her shoulders, his fingers digging into her coat in a way that was more rough than pleading.

"Don't touch me, Scott." Carly threw off his hands, twisting out of his grasp and kicking at him with her brown boots. Of course she missed. She never had good aim when she was in a rage. She couldn't say if she had really meant for the kick to connect, anyway.

She turned to walk away again, more than ready to be in the comfort of her apartment, and he grabbed her shoulder, spinning her around harshly. "Baby –"

"_I said don't touch me!" _Her words came out in an angry shriek, so loud and sudden that he at once dropped his hand and stopped speaking, glancing around at passersby and giving them a sheepish grin. People were starting to stare, but she barely noticed or cared.

He lowered his voice, smiling through his words, more to appease the crowd, she bitterly realized, than because she was upset. "I wasn't cheating on you. She doesn't mean anything to me. Not like you do. Baby, you know I love-"

"Don't." She interrupted, wind blowing through her hair and sending a chill up her spine. "I don't want to hear it. You _love_ me? If you _love_ me, why were you making out with that…that…that skunk bag?"

The boy seemed irritated that Carly had interrupted him. "I don't get why you're freaking out about this. You're overreacting." He rolled his eyes and gave a look she'd seen all too often when he was pretending the problems they were having were hers and that he was in the right. This time, she wasn't buying.

"I'm 'freaking out' about this because _you hurt me_," she said, wondering how she had ever liked this guy. Looking at him now, he wasn't even cute. "Because seeing you kiss her like that…you broke me." She clenched her teeth to keep from crying.

He snorted, as if making a mistake was impossible for him. As if her pain was somehow beneath him. "I _broke_ you?"

"Yes," she defended herself, her hurt hardening into bitterness. "But don't worry about it. I'll pick up the pieces without your help, just like I always do."

"Look, all we did was make out, okay? It's not like I'm actually _interested_ in her. She just wanted a piece of this." He smirked slightly, like he was proud of himself. For cheating on her. For hurting her. For making her feel worthless...again.

For a moment, all Carly could do was look at him, chewing the inside of her cheek until she tasted blood.

"Well, I'm glad _someone_ wants a piece of _'this'_," she hissed, gesturing at him and then returning her hand to her pocket, "Because I don't."

For the third time, she turned to walk away from him. This time he didn't make a move to stop her. Instead, she heard him give an exasperated sigh, and then the crunch of his footsteps on the snow-covered pavement, heading in the opposite direction.

Carly stayed strong and rigid all the way back to Bushwell. Once she got inside, everything was a blur. She didn't remember walking up the stairs or down the hallway or knocking on the Benson's door.

Maybe she hadn't knocked. Maybe Freddie had heard or seen her and just known.

Somehow, she found herself standing in right front of him, darkening the doorway of his apartment, her face wet with melted snow and tears she didn't remember crying. She hadn't even meant to come here.

She had meant to go home.

He met her eyes and wordlessly pulled her into a hug.

His arms went around her gently, one hand smoothing her hair down and the other rubbing her back. Her head rested on his shoulder and the tears streamed down her face. Mascara was probably all over his shoulder and she knew that she had ice in her hair, but it didn't seem to bother him. He seemed to know what was happening. Know exactly why she was crying and exactly what to do.

She had meant to go home.

That's just where she had ended up.

* * *

A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed this! :) I'm not really sure where it came from, honestly. It really just wrote itself, and in 10 minutes I was done and I don't even know if I like this one or not right now, but I hope you will! :) Feedback is much appreciated.


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